Looking AfterMark
by Aeiu
Summary: In A sequel to "The Escape Clause", it's been less than a day since Barbra Johnson offerd McCormick a chance to leave Gull's Way when she and Hardcastle decide to have another talk bout McCormick's future


Looking After Mark

By Aeiu

There were four people that Barbra Johnson truly hated. One was Martin Cody who had killed her father and tried to steal his automotive design. One was Melinda Marshall who had railroaded her friend, Mark McCormick, into jail for stealing his own car. One was herself and the other was the man who stood outside her motel door.

It didn't surprise her that he had tracked her down to her temporary home. She had been expecting him ever since he had discovered her late night meeting with Mark. She had been surprised that he had allowed Mark to meet her for lunch without insisting on joining them.

But Hardcastle needn't had worried about her friend spilling any secrets. All during the lunch, Mark had been upbeat and bubbly. He had regaled her with funny stories about the judge's habits and had bragged about how he had helped bring several dangerous criminals to justice. All the while, downplaying the risks he took under the judge's directions. He had shrugged off the obvious injuries had recently suffered as mere flukes of no consequence. Above all he had told her not to worry about him.

But she couldn't do that. She had tried to get him to take the fake passport that she had offered him the night before but, again, he had refused. He had begged her to promise not to do anything illegal in any attempt to help him escape from the deal he had made with Hardcastle. He had told her that he didn't want anything to endanger the new life she was building for herself. A life that both her late father and he wanted for her. He assured her that he was happy with his new life.

But that was the essence of Mark McCormick. He never wanted the people he cared about to see the pain and fear behind his happy-go-lucky mask. As long as she had known him, he had shrugged off the oh-so-many bad things life had thrown at him. He was always smiling and cracking jokes no matter the situation. The only time he had not been able to overcome the bad was the two years he spent in jail, due to Ms. Marshall and the Honorable Judge Milton C. Hardcastle. Unable to keep up the facade, he had closed off all contacts with his friends, refusing their letters and attempts to visit him inside the prison. After he had been released, he had rejoined her and her father and acted as if he had never been away. When her father had created the new racecar prototype and asked Mark to drive it; it looked like Mark was finally going to have his shot at the good things in life.

Then her father had been murdered and the Coyote had been stolen. She had gone to Mark and pleaded with him to get the car back from Cody. He had hesitated but finally agreed to help her. When she thought back, she wondered if she didn't realize the risk she was asking him to take or if she hadn't care. Mark had known the risks and he had taken them in her behalf all the while protecting her from their unpleasant ramifications. Now he was forced to act as an unofficial Tonto for a vigilante ex-judge or be sent back to jail for catching a murder, returning a car to its owner and saving a police officer's life. It wasn't fair. Once she realized what she had done to her friend; she swore she would make it right, despite the risks. The greatest of which stood just outside the door of her room.

"What can I do for you, Judge Hardcastle?" she asked though the cracked door.

"I'd like to come in and talk with you." Hardcastle saw her hesitate. "Look," he said, "you can let me in or we can discuss this out here where everyone can hear. But I don't think you or McCormick would want that."

With a disgusted murmur, she opened the door and let him enter the room. They faced each other, her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. Defensive and ready to fight for the friend she felt she had betrayed before that betrayal got him killed.

Hardcastle fixed a steely eye on the young woman as he stood in front of her with open hands. He was, also, prepared for a fight. He had seen the passport that McCormick had covertly returned to Miss Johnson. He had heard the unasked question she had made to his new Tonto and he had been gratified at his parolee's response. He knew Johnson had many fine qualities, but she was impulsive. Her impulsiveness nearly ended with McCormick being sent back to prison for a long stretch as a three time loser if not killed in an unorganized and futile attempt at revenge against Martin Cody. Now she was back and trying to get McCormick to make another mistake. She had to understand the consequences of what she was doing before she ruined his life.

"I want you to give me the passport," demanded Hardcastle.

"You don't need to worry," Barbra said with a weary sigh. "Mark has already turned me down. He's too honorable to go back on his word to you."

"I want you to give it to me anyway. Just being in possession of such a thing is a violation of the law. You could get in trouble."

"I don't care about me. I care about Mark," she said as she emphasized the word I.

"You should care. You're going to law school. You're going to have to support the laws. All of them," he said in an attempt to bring the conversation back to logic and reason and away from the emotions that he was not willing to face.

"There are some things more important than the law," she responded angrily. Barbra reached into her purse, pulled out the fake passport, and threw it to Hardcastle. "Here, take it. I'll have another one by tomorrow night. I'll have forty of them. You'll never find all of them."

Hardcastle raised his voice as he pointed his finger at the angry woman. Are you trying to get McCormick in trouble? You keep this up and you'll get him thrown back into jail."

"You'll get him killed!" she accused.

Hardcastle froze as he tried to form a response. The last case had been dicey. It should've been a straight forward job. McCormick conned his way into a local drug lord's gang. He was wired for sound. He met with the drug lord to deliver some goods and get enough information on the tape to arrest the human scum. But the wire had been discovered. The last thing he and the waiting police had heard was the drug lord ordering McCormick to be killed. The young man had already been knocked to the ground with one of the guards prepared to shoot him when the police rushed in. When drug lord had tried to escape, Hardcastle ordered McCormick to get up and catch him. Without hesitation, his Tonto had jumped into his nearby car and caught the criminal in a chase which ended in a spectacular car crash. Fortunately no one was seriously hurt. But it had made the television news which had brought Miss Johnson to Los Angeles in an unneeded attempt to save her friend.

"I remember," she continued, "on that ride back, after you caught Cody. You told me that you had done this with other parolees. You told me that chasing criminals would only be a small part of what he'd be doing. You said he'd be safe. And damn me, I believed you because it made it easy for me to walk away. Barbra closed her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears which formed in her eyes.

Hardcastle winced; even after all his years as a cop and a judge, he hated to see a woman cry. "I'm not asking him to do anything that he doesn't agree to. He has a choice."

"Right, do it or go back to jail. He'd rather die than go back there."

Hardcastle thought back on the planning session that he and McCormick had with Lieutenant Carlton. The parolee may have been hesitant at the beginning but by the end, they had to temper some of his more elaborate ideas. Even with strict instructions to follow the script, the natural born conman had improvised on the scene. But it had worked; McCormick had been invited to join the gang and meet the boss. "It's not like that. We're doing a lot of good for society getting scum like that off of the street."

"I don't care about what's good for society. I care about Mark."

"You might not want to believe it, but so do I. Yes, he got hurt but he was being monitored the entire time. This has been good for him. He's going to have a future but not if you get him thrown back for breaking his parole. I'm asking you, for his sake, to leave him alone."

"I turned my back on him once. I won't do it again."

"Then I'm ordering you not to have any contact with him."

Barbra scoffed, "You can't tell me what to do."

"No, but I can tell McCormick what to do. I don't want to but if you're a bad influence than he'll have to give you up."

"You can try. I don't want to cause trouble for Mark. But he knows about the passport and the first time he gets hurt too bad, or when he's finally had enough and wants to get out. I'll help him and damn the consequences."

"I'm not going to let it come to that."

"And I'm not going to read about Mark being found in some god forsaken grave in the middle of the desert while you're picking out your next assistant." Barbra opened the door. "You've got what you came for and said what you wanted to say. I think you'd better leave now."

Hardcastle pocketed the passport. "Remember what I said," he cautioned.

"Remember what I said," she retorted as she closed the door.

Hardcastle climbed into his truck. It hadn't gone as smoothly as he wanted. Women, as a rule, were always letting emotions get the better of them. He hadn't been lying to Johnson when he laid out his plans for McCormick on their drive back to Los Angeles. He had never envisioned himself and his Tonto going after truly dangerous men in elaborate sting operations. It was something that seemed to evolve almost instantly between himself and the young man. Even with their first case against Martin Cody. They inspired each other to greater and risker heights. It was a partnership that worked. Two pieces that were stronger together than apart.

He hoped Johnson meant what she said about not wanting to cause problems for McCormick. If he had to, he would forbid them to have contact but he knew McCormick would bristle at such a restriction, if not flat out ignore it. It could lead to a test of wills that could end badly. But he could understand McCormick's feeling. He had lost a lost in his life. Most of it over the past few years. Only out of prison for a few months, he would want to hold on to the little he had left. The Johnson woman and the Coyote were about all he had.

Hardcastle winced as he thought about the last few things she had said to him. It brought back unpleasant memories of Tina Gray and Filapiano. He doubted McCormick had told her anything about that incident. They had both suffered several sleepless nights following the last minute rescue which had saved McCormick from the lonely desert grave that Johnson seemed to think was the parolee's fate.

The thing that had really bothered him was something Grey had said while giving her statement. She had been responsible for setting up several men to take the fall her actions, the last one being McCormick. Hardcastle remembered chastising her for the choices she had made as Filapiano's informant. She had responded her that she had never had a choice in anything since she had hooked up with the detective who faced his own criminal charges.

McCormick had made several statements, in the past, that he lacked control of his own life since becoming Tonto. But Hardcastle knew that he wasn't anything like Filapiano and he didn't think McCormick believed so either. Hardcastle remembered admitting that McCormick meant something to him. His Tonto was a diamond in the rough who had potential if only given a chance. He wasn't a disposable tool, no person was. That was the difference between himself and Filapiano. Hardcastle wondered sadly if Johnson could see the difference.

McCormick had surprised him when he returned the passport. He didn't know all the details but he was sure that she had laid out an elaborate escape plan and been rebuffed. Once he had told McCormick that it would be six months before he would trust him but he knew when the chips were down the ex-con would do the right thing.

Maybe the meeting with Johnson was a good thing. It could give McCormick a sense of control over his life that had been lacking. Knowledge that if things ever got too rough or that the job got too demanding, he had a way out. It would remind him that he was there by choice and not held there just by the threat of returning back to jail.

Hardcastle sighed as he started the truck. It would be good if he could remember that too.

THE END


End file.
